Chapter 25

That night, Wen Xin had a dream about her childhood.

After her parents passed away, she lived with Uncle and Auntie for a time, enduring many years as an unwelcome dependent under their roof.

Those days were miserable for her. Uncle and Auntie didn’t like her and treated her like a freeloader, calling her a burden day in and day out. They gave her the bare minimum for food, clothes, and daily needs—the very worst of everything. Wen Xin grew terribly thin during those years. She was at the age when children should shoot up in height, yet hers never did.

At first, a few kindhearted neighbors couldn’t bear to watch. They would sneak her some food whenever Uncle and Auntie weren’t paying attention. But later, Auntie caught on by chance. She dragged her son to the neighbor’s door and unleashed a torrent of abuse, ranting nonstop about their fake kindness and phony virtue.

“If you feel so sorry for her, you raise her!” Auntie fumed, lunging forward to seize Wen Xin’s arm and haul her back. The yank sent Wen Xin stumbling badly. “Anybody can toss out a few scraps—who are you trying to fool?”

“You think I’m not feeding her right? What good is the pitiful bit of money her parents left behind? If I didn’t pinch every penny, it’d be gone before you know it! Doesn’t school cost money? Doesn’t looking after her cost money? We’re not some filthy rich family—we can’t support a bottomless pit like her!”

“Everyone knows her parents were big shots in business,” the neighbor shot back. She’d put up with Auntie long enough and now couldn’t hold her tongue. “No matter how you slice it, that money should’ve kept your whole family fed and clothed without a worry. Are you skimming it? God knows what you’re up to on the sly.”

Perhaps the accusation struck too close to home, for Auntie’s face twisted in fury. The old tube-shaped apartment block had thin walls, and nosy residents soon clustered at them to eavesdrop and gawk. Right there in front of everyone, Auntie threw a shameless tantrum, flopping to the floor and refusing to budge.

“No good deed goes unpunished—that’s what this is! Our family slaved away raising this little parasite, and what do we get? Not a word of thanks, just mud slung in our faces. Oh woe is me, what have I done to deserve this!”

She clawed at Wen Xin, her nails digging deep into the girl’s flesh. With a look of pure venom, she glared right into her face. “You jinx! Wasn’t killing off your parents enough? Now you want to drive us to our graves too?”

She carried on like that for ages and ages that day, hurling the vilest curses imaginable at Wen Xin, again and again.

The neighbors grew sick of the racket and steered clear. In the end, no one dared meddle anymore. Even spotting Wen Xin, they averted their eyes, terrified of getting dragged in.

Those incidents carved scars into Wen Xin’s heart that time could never erase. Her personality, already shy and withdrawn, shrank even further. She couldn’t hold her head up at home or at school. Local classmates got wind of the drama—thanks to the mean ones who spread it far and wide—and from then on, she faced stares everywhere she went, loaded with pity or scorn.

The memories hurt fiercely, though not quite past bearing. Wen Xin clamped her lips shut and stayed mute all day long. She provoked no one, shrinking her presence to nothing. The gawkers and gossips craved her tears or outburst, but got nothing, so they lost interest and wandered off eventually.

Night after night, she wept in secret, aching for her parents over and over.

Until one day much later, when she finally made a friend. The girl was bold and outgoing, seemingly oblivious to Wen Xin’s history and unfazed by the whispers. She kept drawing close to the younger girl, pleading time and again to be friends.

“Why?” Little Wen Xin couldn’t fathom it.

“No reason. I just like hanging out with you, that’s all.” The girl lavished her with compliments, holding nothing back. “You’re so cute and quiet, great at school, and super smart to boot.”

“I like people like you. Wanna be friends?”

She’d said as much plenty of times before.

At last, Wen Xin nodded. Deep down, she yearned for friendship, longed to escape her loneliness.

…

But it might have been the worst choice she ever made.

The girl had tricked her. Her motives weren’t innocent at all—this was a different kind of cruelty. When straight bullying failed, some people found sneakier ways. She cozied up to win Wen Xin’s trust, pried out her deepest secrets, then shoved her away and blared every private hurt for all to hear.

“I miss Mommy and Daddy so much—every single day. If only time could turn back. I wish it’d been me who died.”

“Auntie yelled at me again today. I’m so sad. Why doesn’t anybody like me? Why…”

“We talked about what we wanna be when we grow up. I dream of becoming a scientist and inventing a time machine to go back and save my parents.”

“Yo, scientist!” crowed a boy who lived for chaos. He swaggered over and shoved Wen Xin hard, his face twisted in sneering mockery. “In your dreams! Why don’t you drop dead like your folks?”

The push packed real force. Wen Xin couldn’t dodge in time and hit the ground hard.

Then she jolted awake from the dream, gulping air. For an instant, she couldn’t tell nightmare from now, convinced she was trapped back then. Her whole body shook uncontrollably until she finally gathered her wits and remembered where she truly lay.

Dawn was breaking. The nightmare had chased sleep away for good. Wen Xin wanted to check the time and carefully lifted her phone.

Several unread messages glowed on the screen, all from Shi Qianyu. Last night, she’d failed to reply clearly, guilt heavy in her eyes.

Shi Qianyu hadn’t minded at all. She’d just given a warm smile, saying it was no trouble—she had plenty of patience and would wait for Wen Xin’s answer.

Director Shi was a truly good person. Wen Xin had always known it.

She drew a deep breath, sorting through her jumbled thoughts before unlocking the phone and tapping into Shi Qianyu’s WeChat. A barrage of photos burst onto the screen.

Snapshots Shi Qianyu must have taken sometime that evening, capturing every joyful moment of their movie date, dinner, and evening walk.

Wen Xin scrolled through them slowly. Most featured her: concentrating at the concession stand as she bought popcorn; quietly slurping noodles from her bowl; ambling down the gravel path, playfully chasing her own shadow…

Shi Qianyu had a real knack for photography—every image was flawless. As Wen Xin lingered over them, the knot of anxiety and fear in her chest began to loosen.

Until the final photo.

A four-leaf clover. Somehow, Shi Qianyu had spotted this tiny miracle in the garden downstairs. Night had fallen, the streetlamp overhead offering only the feeblest glow. She’d used that scant light to snap the picture for Wen Xin, no doubt angling the shot over and over for perfection.

Yet she never griped. Instead, she picked the loveliest one and sent it with a message: 【Look what I found.】

【Hope it brings you good luck.】

Wen Xin closed WeChat and set the phone aside. She curled into herself gently.

Shi Qianyu’s words echoed once more. Everyone wanted something from life. She craved love and companionship—but now that they dangled within reach, old habits kicked in. She started weighing the risks, the costs.

Starting anything terrified her. Her mind spun out of control with what-ifs. Some shadows didn’t fade just by looking away. Shi Qianyu came from a happy family, young and successful, blessed with every advantage. A relationship might be mere gravy for her—no big loss if it fell through.

Wen Xin had nothing. So everything mattered terribly. She knew she fell short, that the gap between them yawned too wide. What if it was all smoke and mirrors? If Shi Qianyu backed out, Wen Xin would crash from the heights once more.

What if she still had her parents? What if those agonies were only a dream? What if she’d grown up carefree, free of self-doubt…

Wen Xin burrowed her head into the covers and whispered so faintly it was barely a breath: “Mommy, I miss you.”

“How wonderful it would be if you were still here.”

~~~

A new week dawned.

Wen Xin arrived at the office unusually early. She’d spent the last couple of days turning things over in her mind and now carried a firm decision. The door to the director’s office stood ajar. With a steadying breath, she approached Shi Qianyu.

“Director Shi, do you have a moment?”

“Yes.” Shi Qianyu set aside her paperwork. Perceptive as ever, she read the answer in Wen Xin’s eyes the instant they met.

Even so, she said, “Come in.” Her gaze never left Wen Xin’s face. “Shut the door behind you.”

“Something you’d like to tell me?” she prompted next.

“Yes.” Wen Xin nodded, the words slow in coming. “About the idea you brought up that day.”

“Mm.” Shi Qianyu’s lips curved faintly, though her tone stayed even. “Decided?”

“I have.” Wen Xin swallowed. “I think… we’d better not.”

Shi Qianyu fell silent, her eyes shadowing over.

Wen Xin couldn’t meet that steady look. She rattled off the speech she’d rehearsed: “We’re boss and subordinate, after all. It wouldn’t look right if people kept seeing us together. And you’re always so busy—you should use your free time to rest, not waste it on me.”

“I’m very grateful for your care these past days,” Wen Xin said, her hands quietly clenching into fists. “You’re a good boss, a good senior. Thank you for your guidance. In the future, I’ll humbly learn from you and become someone useful to the company.”

Guidance—she described their time together as guidance.

Shi Qianyu fell silent, never expecting Wen Xin to be so heartless. She quietly stared at Wen Xin’s face, sensing for the first time how much Wen Xin had grown; she was no longer the person she used to be.

But she still didn’t want to let go, even if Wen Xin had forgotten her, even if she heard such a heartless rejection.

“You actually hate me, don’t you?” After a long pause, Shi Qianyu finally spoke again, her voice very soft. In the prolonged silence, she had readjusted her mindset—after all, she had waited for Wen Xin for so many years; this little bit of time didn’t matter. “Right?”

“No.” Wen Xin shook her head quickly in denial, afraid Shi Qianyu would say that. “Of course not.”

“Then are you afraid?” Shi Qianyu asked again. She stood up and slowly walked over to Wen Xin, looking seriously at the person before her. “What are you afraid of?”

Wen Xin fell silent.

Shi Qianyu went quiet too, but in the silence, she raised her hand, gently grasping Wen Xin’s wrist and bringing her palm to her own face, rubbing it slowly: “I think you should like me—at least this face is one you like, isn’t it? Otherwise, we wouldn’t have gone to bed before.”

“Wen Xin, give me another chance, okay?” she asked. “If you’re afraid of a relationship starting, I won’t force it. I know what a change in relationship means. I don’t need you to like me, or for you to take responsibility.”

“Let’s be lovers, okay?” She smiled, her voice very soft. “After all, our bodies fit so well; being lovers would surely be perfect.”

“Wen Xin, Sister… please, I beg you, please agree.”